Need to Know
by whimsycality
Summary: Michael realizes his mistake and takes steps to fix it. Follow-up to The Way I Loved You. Polar, Dreamer references.


**A/N:** So here's the follow-up to The Way I Loved You, a Michael POV piece explaining why he ended things, and with a semi-happy ending though still, of course, angsty. I do not own the lyrics to the song I Need to Know by Kris Allen.

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><p><em><strong>I Need to Know<strong>_

_Life's been blinding me_

_From what I thought I'd see_

I see you with him and it burns, just like I knew it would. But, when you're with him, you look at me, and I don't know what that means. You catch my gaze when I least expect it, and instead of reproach, anger, hatred, your stubborn brown eyes are warm with feelings I never thought I'd see again, at least not directed at me. Why aren't you moving on? Why haven't you fallen under his perfect, charming spell?

You were so still on that floor, displaying none of the raw passion that I alone know you're capable of, and there was no question of stopping him from helping you, even though it meant losing you. Losing you to him, and losing you to my own stupidity in never telling you the truth, in making you my only good secret, but never sharing the one secret that defined my existence.

I was afraid. You made me afraid, afraid in ways that Hank, and the government, and potential alien enemies never had, and I couldn't deal with it. So I ended things before you learned the truth, before you realized that you were better off without an emotionally stunted freak like me. The pain on your face when I ended things almost broke me, as did the fact that you didn't utter one word of protest once you realized it wasn't a joke, wasn't just me being a moody bastard. You just stood there, a pale, mute statue, and watched me walk away, the tears reddening your cheeks hurting me more than Hank's fists ever could.

In typical you fashion, you found out the truth, refused to let us shut you out no matter how much I tried, and, just as I knew you would, you went to him. But you don't look at him the way you look at me. You don't get that light in your eyes that reveals the faint gold flecks lurking in their depths. You do still look at me, stare until I could swear that you're burrowing inside my head using powers not alien, just yours, to make me remember every moment we shared, every taste of your lips, ever silent declaration of emotion.

For some foolish reason, you haven't let me go. Was I the idiot to let you go?

_Is there clarity in this insanity?_

_What's she want from me?_

I followed you that night, like some demented stalker, like _him_. I tried to stay away, to stick to my decision, but you're a hard habit to break and I had to see the two of you together, to see if you were happy with him, maybe that would get you out of my head. You blushed and you smiled and you flirted at all the right times. It fooled him, but I know better. I saw you taste the rain and I knew you were thinking of me and it made me ache, everywhere, remembering the feel of your body pressed against mine as we stood in the middle of the desert while the elements raged around us. I know he didn't notice the tears, but I did, and they made me ache too, in different ways, for different reasons.

I thought he was what you wanted. Someone shiny and perfect, someone as smart as you were who you could take home to meet your dad, someone who shared your dreams of Harvard. Someone who didn't lie to you about who he was, someone who didn't need you as the one shred of decency in a fucked up life.

I couldn't stomach the thought of watching you pick him over me. I couldn't take if you'd hated me for lying, for daring to touch you, to kiss you, without you knowing that I wasn't even human. So I left you first.

And now, now I'm beginning to think that once again I underestimated you. That I should have given you a chance to prove that you're the better person, that you would have stayed, even though no one else ever has. It's probably too late, even if you would have forgiven me then, I'm sure that now I've driven you to him permanently, no matter how many glances you steal in my direction when he's not looking.

_Roads in front of me_

_Taking me astray_

I need to take a risk. A risk bigger than the one I took when I first kissed you. You were studying in the park, even though it was the beginning of summer when normal teenagers have lives, and you got so caught up in that laughably huge book that you didn't notice how late it was. You almost tripped over me in your rush to get back home, and when you realized who it was, and saw my scowl, instead of backing away you tried to start a conversation, asking how I was, what my summer plans were.

It was so ridiculous, you, Perfect Parker, trying to befriend me, that I laughed. You thought I was laughing at you and got so mad, eyes flashing, arms crossing angrily over your heaving chest; I didn't know you had it in you. I just stared at you, astonished by the evidence of real emotion I had never noticed in all of Max's pining, and you started to blush, still glaring at my furiously, and I kissed you. I still don't know why, don't know how I could have been so stupid, but it was one of the few times I didn't regret my rash decision.

That should have been the end of it. You should have slapped me, but you didn't. Instead, after a frozen moment of shock, you kissed me back, even going so far as to try and wrap your arms around my neck to pull me closer. Afterwards you told me that it was what your first kiss should have been like, and it gave me the strangest feeling of happy pride, a hardly recognizable emotion in the Guerin psyche.

We never really talked about it, about us, not at first, but we somehow kept finding each other, always alone, and soon you became the pole my life revolved around, superseding even Isabel and Max in importance. I can't believe I gave you up so easily.

_Are you leaving me?_

_Or are you leading the way?_

_Can you hear what I'm saying?_

I'm standing in the alley below your balcony, staring up at the ladder. I've used it so many times I could probably make my way up blindfolded, but now it's taken on the properties of some mythical bridge, guarded by trolls or demons. See what you've done to me? I do not have flights of fancy, that is your job, mine is to mock them. Is it too late to give you your job back? Have you given up on me, the way I gave up on us? If you have, I won't blame you. I'm the idiot who surrendered without a fight. If you never want to see me again, I'll leave. But, if you're stronger than me, which I know you are, if you're still willing to take a chance, I'll say those three words I've successfully avoided until now – I was wrong. I'll tell you that leaving you was the stupidest decision I've ever made, in a lifetime of poor choices.

I hear your voice, although I'm not sure if it's reality or yet another unwelcome intrusion of my imagination, never so annoying than in the month we've been apart, and I grasp the first rung of the ladder, pulling it down. I'm still terrified, you still terrify me, the power you hold over me, power I never wanted anyone to hold, but I can't take not knowing anymore; I need to hear whatever you're willing to say.

I reach the top and lift myself over the edge to find the balcony empty, your blanket curled up on your favorite lawn chair, looking as lonely as I feel. I snort, both at myself for thinking something so inane, and because I actually expected you to be here when I finally gave in. I know better than that. I'm turning to leave, when you open your window.

_I need to know…_

_I need to know…_

_I need to know…_

_I need to know…_

Your eyes lock with mine, hope and wariness radiating outwards, and I freeze, unable to move as you step onto the balcony, graceful as only you can be, and move towards me. You reach a trembling hand outwards and hesitantly touch my arm, as if reassuring yourself that I am real. Your fingers burn against my skin, warmth seeping inwards until the ice thaws, and I wrap my arms around you, burning hotter as you melt against me, your fingers clutching my shirt and your hair teasing my chin.

My relief is short lived and soon you are pushing me away, arms crossing protectively over your chest as you stare at me, eyes glossy with unshed tears and lips pressed into a thin, forbidding line. "Why?" You ask after a long and painful moment, voice shaking ever so slightly.

I want to reach out, to communicate in the best way I know how, but I can see you won't let me so my hand falls to my side as I fidget, my inability to say what I want, to say anything, extending the uncomfortable silence that follows your question. Your eyes start to darken, your lips curving downwards in disappointment, and finally it all comes rushing out, awkward words tumbling over one another in a crazed babble that's disconnected from my brain, all trying to stop the pain that's crumpling your body in on itself.

"I was stupid. I didn't think you'd forgive me. I lied to you. I thought you would fall for him, he's always wanted you. I'm sorry."

_Feel like I'm trying to breathe under water_

_Trying to climb but I keep falling farther_

_Will you take my hand?_

You blink, lips parting slightly in surprise at my unorganized, unclear, but agonizingly emotion baring confession. A million different thoughts and feelings flash through your eyes, eyes I usually enjoy watching, but now can't read.

I wish I didn't care so much. The me of six months ago never would have believed that I could feel so deeply about a single answer from you, the girl he mostly knew as Max's obsession, pretty and smart sure, but not exactly worth making a fool of himself for. That me was ignorant, had no idea how lucky he would be to get to touch you, to be touched by you.

This me does know, and is angry and terrified by the thought of never touching you again, that all of this is too little too late, one more fuck up by Michael Guerin, and that you'll go back to him. This me doesn't want to go back to only knowing anger and fear and resentment, and selfishly can't bring himself to care that being who and what I am means that I should already be pushing you away, shouldn't even be here trying to fix what I broke.

Please forgive me.

_Feels so far away_

_Want to see your face_

_Are you even there?_

_Can you show me?_

_Can you make me believe?_

Less than two feet separates us, but it feels like a chasm I can never cross as you stare at me, face blank of expression, eyes shuttered while you weigh options I don't know, am afraid to know. The seconds tick by, dragging past me as if I'd suddenly been drenched in molasses, and when your mouth finally opens, my body tenses in preparation for the worst.

"You hurt me. You should have trusted me, trusted us." you say, each word striking me like a stone, creating bruises deeper than my skin as I resist the urge to flinch, knowing I deserve this and more. "But I can't hate you; I never have, even though I should for making me feel like this, for making me love you so much that all I want to do is kiss you, even when I should be kissing someone else."

I rock back on my heels, breath exploding outwards as I stare back at you, barely processing your small smile as I see that light back in your eyes, dimmed, but irrepressible. My shock lasts only for a moment until my instincts override my stunned brain, knowing better than to question your undeserved forgiveness, and then I'm yanking you into my arms again, fingers tangling in your silky hair as I claim your mouth, tasting that strange but intoxicating mix of strawberries and mint that I didn't think I'd get to taste again, and swallowing your happy sigh as I burn from the inside out.

I'm never letting you go again.

_I need to know…_

_I need to know…_

_I need to know…_

_I need to know…_

I stare at them through her bedroom window, frozen in shock, horror, and resignation. She doesn't know that I saw him in her thoughts, that when I kissed her, I felt what she felt when she kissed him. She doesn't know that I always knew I was second. He doesn't know that I didn't care, that I was willing to be second for once if it meant having her.

And now I don't even have that.

_I need to know…_

_I need to know…_


End file.
